When We Collide
by eDWards.headboard
Summary: Carlisle and Esme are twelve years into their marriage. The pain of life has left them disconnected and numb. Do you know what's more powerful than numbness? Physical pain. The ironic thing is that emotional numbness hurts worse than physical pain.


***Thank you so much to pervspackssmutshack for reviewing this story on August 8, 2011.

They recommend great fics multiple times every week.

Go find yourself some great reads!

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><p>This one shot was written for the <strong>TLS Lyrics and Lemons Contest <strong>which was sponsored by The Lemonade Stand.

Go to their blog for all kinds of lemony goodness!

**Song:** **"Many of Horror"** (When We Collide)

Lyrics written by Simon Alexander Neil-Recorded by Biffy Clyro

**One Shot Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Carlisle/Esme- AH

**Summary: **Carlisle and Esme are twelve years into their marriage. The pain of life has left them disconnected and numb. Do you know what's more powerful than numbness? Physical pain. The ironic thing is that emotional numbness hurts worse than physical pain.

**Disclaimers:**This story is not BDSM, but it's tiptoeing on the sidewalk that leads there. Just throwing that out there in case that sort of thing bothers you. Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Song lyrics and title belong to Biffy Clyro. (If you aren't familiar with their music, do yourself a favor.) No copyright infringement intended.

**Genre:** The song is pretty dark and angsty, so the story couldn't be anything but.

Thanks to Dunna for beta-ing this for me when she didn't even have internet access-that's commitment!

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><p>"<strong>When We Collide"<strong>

Introduction

"For better or worse; richer or poorer" We say those words, but we don't really mean them because we only imagine "better" and "richer" 'til death do us part. It's supposed to be the happiest day of our lives so we shake off the "worse" and "poorer" part. But what happens if, twelve years later, "worse" is much worse than you could have ever imagined and poorer doesn't mean running out for fifty-nine cent tacos before ER starts. Worse actually means living daily in an empty relationship where communication is minimal and devoid of meaning. Poorer actually means denial of funds, bankruptcy and social disgrace. Poorer and worse equal debilitating heartache that slowly gets replaced by numbness. Do you know what's more powerful than numbness? Physical pain. The ironic thing is that numbness hurts worse than pain. If you've been numb for a while, you will welcome pain, relish it. You will be thankful for it and crave it.

"**Our broken fairytale, **

**So hard to hide."**

I turn off the TV and walk through the downstairs turning off lights as I go. I start to climb the stairs but I notice the office light is on. I hesitate. Then I go to look for Carlisle. I find him staring at the computer screen. "I'm going up," I say.

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute." He looks up at me blankly then motions with his finger for me come closer. I walk to his chair, bend over and kiss him gently on the cheek. As I do, he grabs my ponytail and hoarsely whispers, "Esme, do you know what you've conditioned to think of when I see you in a ponytail? I think of your mouth on my cock." His eyes are burning. He slams his lips on mine roughly, prying my lips open with his tongue and shoves it into my mouth. I bite down carefully and he shortens the leash he's made out of my hair. I moan, releasing his tongue, because all of my senses are on alert. I push my tongue into his mouth and run it across his top teeth and then back over the bottom ones, feeling and tasting him. I grab his bottom lip with my teeth and then slowly suck it into my mouth. He pulls my head away from his forcefully before he releases me completely. "Leave Pavlov's Ponytail in for me." My heart is racing. The adrenaline is making me feel alive, for once. He turns his attention back to the computer screen, so I leave quietly.

It wasn't always like this. We used to enjoy each other's company. We used to joke around and talk about our day. We used to make plans for the house, plans for vacation and plans for the future. The future used to be a fairytale instead of a monotonous nightmare.

I leave the ponytail, but follow the rest of my nighttime routine. As I apply the drugstore moisturizer that has replaced my department store brand, I notice my chipped fingernails. I just painted them yesterday, but plain old polish just does not last as long a professional manicure on acrylics.

I have had to sacrifice small luxuries for basic necessities. My Mercedes has been replaced by an economy sedan. I never answer my Pay as You Go phone because it's only people asking why I haven't paid my bills for three months. We can't afford to pay them. The economy sucks and the business, that used to provide our family with a very comfortable lifestyle, has dried up and left us with nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. Carlisle still has his Porsche. He still plays golf every Wednesday and hangs out at the country club. He explained that if he gave that all up for five years it wouldn't be enough to pay the taxes we owe and he needs those connections to bring in what little money he's able to bring home now.

I try not to be bitter about the few lifestyle extravagances he's held on to. Some days it's easier than others. Some days I want to slap him in the face and yell at him to snap out of it, to let me work, to drive an economy sedan too. Most of the time, he's too stoic to notice that I'm even in the house. So I say nothing. We say nothing.

He used to be angry about money all the time. He used to yell and throw or hit things until they broke. He's very quiet now. I think he's still angry, but he doesn't break things anymore. He has spent hours with lawyers figuring out how to negotiate with the government and we don't have any credit available to us anywhere. I don't understand how it all works, I just know that you get what you pay for where hair care products are concerned and I definitely miss the salon.

Our children have made the biggest sacrifice. They are attending public school this year. They hate it. _I _hate it, yet here's nothing I can do. They don't have friends and I've been ostracized from my old circle of carpool moms because we aren't enrolled at Saint Vincent's anymore. The fact is, if you bounce three checks in a row to the private school, they deny you. They will pull your babies out of class in front of all their friends and haul them to the office. Then the bitch secretary will call you and make you pick them up in the middle of the day on a Wednesday. They will tell you not to come back. The carpool moms will turn their backs on you because they're all worried that poverty is contagious. Yes, that was the day I became numb to it all.

"**When we collide, we come together.**

**If we don't, we'll always be apart. **

**I'll take a bruise I know you're worth it, **

**When you hit me, hit me hard."**

I am flossing my teeth when Carlisle comes in to the bathroom. He leans against the counter with his arms folded watching me. I toss the floss into the wastebasket and walk over to him. I reach up and put my arms around his neck. He leans in and gently kisses me. Then he grabs the bottom hem of my shirt and yanks it over my head turning it inside out in the process before he drops it on the tile. I just stand still and stare at my husband. He reaches behind me and unclasps my bra, pulls it down my arms and reunites it with my shirt. Then he places one hand in the middle of my back pulling me to him and he starts kissing me earnestly. I feel his other hand palm my breast before he starts closing his hand firmly. He drags his closing hand until he has my hardened nipple between his fingers pinching it. The pleasure/pain is exquisite and I can feel the tension in my back releasing. I am breathing deeply and savoring the rush. This is our only form of communication now. Body language is the only language we speak. All other forms of communication have failed us. This is the only time we are open to each other.

He continues to explore every inch of my mouth. I can't open my mouth enough or catch his tongue with mine. Carlisle is giving my nipple the full treatment. He flicks, pulls, pinches and twists it until my knees are shaking. I grab the hem of his shirt, pull it off his magnificent body and send it floating to the floor. I lean in and lick hia tangy skin from the center of his chest up to the pulse point on his neck. I hear him moan as I lick, then gently bite and then suck the flesh between my lips. He grabs my ponytail releasing the suction. I look into his eyes and I'm astonished how connected we are right now. We are completely in tune with each other, like we used to be. "Remember what I said about this hairstyle?" I nod without breaking our eye contact. "I am going to watch you in this mirror. I am going to watch my cock disappear into your beautiful mouth inch by inch. I am going to enjoy this ponytail. Are you ready?"

I swallow loudly and answer, "Yes." He lets go of my hair and places both hands on my shoulders. Then he gently pushes me downward until I'm resting in front of him on my knees on the hard tile floor. I reach up, undo the button on his pants and pull them down. As soon as his erection is freed, he has his hands on the sides of my head guiding me where he wants me to be. I lick my lips, but lead with my hand. His dick feels hot, even in my heated mouth.

I glance over to the mirror and we make eye contact. I see him watching me intently. Part of me wants to shut my eyes and disappear back into the darkness I normally live in. But a stronger part loves being this: A powerful sex goddess with a cock in her mouth on a bathroom floor while her husband's reflection watches. I pull my mouth back trailing with my hand until I'm back at the starting point. I repeat my actions, but this time I turn my head and my hand in opposite directions twisting my way down until my hand is flat on his lower stomach. Carlisle starts to lose his balance so I reach around and place my free hand firmly on his ass steadying him. I pinch him and he twists his hands into my hair assuring me that he won't be losing his balance again.

Carlisle tightens his grip in my hair to encourage me to pick up the pace. I swirl my tongue across the tip of his cock and push down until I feel him in the back of my throat. Quickly my "o" shaped lips retreat and I slide my mouth tightly and forcefully back down covering every inch. Carlisle's head has fallen back and his mouth is wide open. He is enjoying himself. I am in awe of my husband, so powerful, so beautiful, so in control. This is the man I love. This man is not distant or sad or unreachable. He is present right here, right now, with me.

"Esme, wait." I remove my hands and mouth from him and he pulls me up firmly until I am standing in front of him. He places both hands under my breasts, just lifts them and lets them fall. He is watching my body carefully and I'm unbelievably aroused by the admiration I see on his face. "Beautiful," he whispers. I know he's talking about _them_, not me, but I don't care. He turns me around so I am facing the mirror. He stands behind me reaching around and I watch as he slowly caresses my nipples. First with one finger, then pinching with two and then the invigorating twisting. It's a bittersweet sensation. It's strong and shocking and sends powerful messages down under. I need to feel more of him. I push my ass backwards into his cock. It is right there, hard and ready. I can see the satisfaction on his face in the mirror. He hisses, "Are you ready?"

I am. I really am.

"Always." He flips me around and his mouth is on mine before I can breathe or even wet my lips. He's hungrily searching for my tongue with his. When they meet it is an erotic reunion. Carlisle starts moving us toward the bed without breaking the kiss. I am stumbling backwards, but he's holding me so tightly there is no way I can fall. When my knees hit the edge of the bed he pushes me backwards until I drop to the mattress. He grabs my pants and rips them down my hips, the button flies off and lands who knows where. He crawls up my body and resumes kissing me. I feel his fingers testing the water. He is impatient. He wants me ready and I am. Two of his fingers make me cry out and then he brings the wetness from my core and paints my outer lips. My body is begging for friction and a smile ghosts across his face as he hovers above me.

"Always ready?" he asks. I nod and then he slams full force into me. I feel pleasantly full and completely stretched. I pull my legs up around him so the next thrust will hit that heavenly spot deep within. He doesn't thrust though, he inches slowly and leisurely back into me until he's where I wanted him, but I am not getting the result I was after. I whimper in frustration and look into his blue eyes. I am silently begging and pleading for him to just fuck me good. He doesn't. Instead, he smirks and brings my right leg across in front of his body and lays it carefully on top of the left. I am flat on my back, twisted at my waist so my legs are together over to my left side. "Now I can see your perky tits and that smack-able ass at the same time. Are you ready to get fucked hard?"

"Always." I see his eyes darken and feel his hand grip my right hip. Then he plows into me and he doesn't pause. He immediately pulls back and slams back in. Moans and cries of pleasure are escaping me with every thrust. He is so deep and hard that my body doesn't have time to process the feeling of one thrust before the next one is piercing through. My muscles are clenching tightly and ecstasy is building exponentially within me until I lose control of everything. I hear myself loudly calling out, I feel my entire body convulsing around my lover and I have indecipherable visions of colors and shapes swirling like a dizzy kaleidoscope. I am naturally high on my body's own chemicals. But before I can finish enjoying my endorphin cocktail, before I can catch my breath, Carlisle is adjusting my body into a new position.

I am as pliable as clay after my powerful orgasm. He molds me into the shape he desires. I am on my hands and knees. My legs are spread wide and my butt is in the air. He gently massages my ass cheek before he pulls back and spanks the spot he prepped. I yelp, and the intensity nearly pushes me into another orgasm. He's rubbing the same spot and the anticipation is marvelous. I want it harder. Rougher. I want him to hit me again. He doesn't. I feel his fingers slowly pinching in various places on my ass. Each one is a surprise. There is no pattern, it's completely unpredictable, unnerving and hot. I moan with each one, knowing he is marking me. I may even have a slight bruise or two tomorrow. I don't care. It's worth it. He stops pinching and returns to the rubbing and massaging. Suddenly his hand is gone. He's not touching me. I'm waiting on edge to see if I will be spanked or pinched or fucked next. The anticipation is glorious and I am aware of my entire body. My toes are curled, my breathing is labored, my heart is racing, my arms and legs are shaking, my body is begging for more. I am undeniably alive.

I feel two things at once, the sting of a forceful spank on the ass and his cock plunging deep into my core. My body lets go of all its tension as I cum again. Carlisle doesn't stop for me to enjoy it, though. He grabs my frayed ponytail with his free hand pushes my head into the mattress, but twists his fingers in my hair so he is pulling my hair as he is pushing my head down. I cannot move my head an inch. He has complete control. He is banging his hips into mine as hard as he can and hitting my ass with hard spanks that echo off the bedroom walls. Then he cries out my name, slows and rides the waves of his own orgasm. He falls on the bed next to me, whimpering in exhaustion. We lay there gasping together, floating back to reality.

Carlisle kisses my shoulder before he rolls over and drifts away from me. I lay there, in my marital bed, knowing that we are in this together, un**til the end of time.** I force myself to focus and remember. I make myself feel the remnants of the pleasure and the joy and the pain because in the morning I will be numb again. It is an ominous cloud that I can count on. Tomorrow I will crave pain, just to remind myself that I am still capable of feeling.

It's been a long year and I don't know when it will end. What will the future hold for us? Some day, in a far away future, could we be happy again? Will we ever be able to feel anything but the numbness? If not, we have our body language conversations where **we come together** and share the **"Many of Horror"** we can't deal with on our own.


End file.
